Soul Salavation
by angelica2001
Summary: An AU if Kyle lived. A little romance, a lot of angst and some action. R for language, sex, and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"You're terminated, fucker."

Sarah Connor sat spent with the awful hand on her shoulder for a minute before pushing herself gingerly to one foot and hopped to the battered form on the ground. Kyle Reese was bloodied, broken and just barely alive. The explosion had caused just as much damage as the wounds he'd come into the factory with. He was bleeding from just about everywhere. His eyes were closed. Blood had dropped onto the lids. She raised a shaking hand to his face, wiping some of the blood away. The lids never moved.

"Kyle?" A frightened pause. "Kyle?" Closed eyes made no recognition. A gentle shake. Nothing. The sirens were louder now. Sarah just curled up next to Kyle listening to the very faint heartbeat and waited, fearing every second that Kyle wasn't going to make it.

The stretcher arm snapped into place as they wheeled her off. It seemed to be moving in slow motion as EMTs worked frantically to get Kyle stabilized and to the hospital, in another stretcher. "Male, late twenties, Caucasian. Multiple gun shots, multiple lacerations, possible head trauma," the EMTs explained to each other as they worked. Hoping the female found with him knew they asked Sarah, "What's his name? Does he have any allergies? Blood type?" She just couldn't answer; she only knew the answer to one. Only managing to whisper his name before they pulled her into another ambulance. The ride to the hospital seemed to last forever and only shock and exhaustion kept her from saying Kyle's name over and over. She was signed in to a room and waited rather impatiently to be seen. She had some paperwork to do, but just stared blankly as the pages in front of her. The nurses took pity and tried to help her fill it out, but she wasn't really there. Clearly whether or not she had insurance could wait. Her leg needed stitches and was possibly broken, but that was nothing to Sarah. Kyle was right there! He was alive and nobody was telling her what was going on! Panic was edging its way into her mind when the doctor finally came in.

"Good news, looks like a couple of stitches and a good night's rest should be all you need. I'll send the nurse in to take care the stitches." He turned to go, but was stopped. "The guy that came in with me, Kyle Reese. How is he? Where is he?"

She was trying to stay calm, composed. Trying so hard not to panic and scream at everyone. The Terminator was dead. She killed it. Kyle was still alive. He had to be here and was going to be fine. She was not going to panic. That wouldn't help anything. The doctor looked confused for a second and said, "I didn't realize you knew him, but I'll try and get an update for you."

After what seemed like an eternity, after all she had already been stitched up when the doctor finally returned. His face was concerned when finally spoke. "Is there any family I can have contacted for Mr. Reese?"

"No. It's just me and him," hoping he wouldn't ask any further questions.

"Well he has second degree burns on both his legs, several gunshot wounds and was lacerated multiple places with metal shrapnel. Apparently a few of which severed an artery and a major vein. He may have also received a severe concussion. There are some signs of bleeding in his brain. He has been in surgery for the last two hours, but it looks like he's in a coma. He's lucky to be alive at all," the doctor completed in mild amazement. "What happened?"

Sarah had been dreading this question since she found herself in the hospital bed. "There was an explosion. Gas truck." Simple. Easily explained most of their injuries. Vague. She just hoped the cops would buy it too; there was a gas truck explosion not far from the factory. The doctor nodded and turned to go. "Can I see him?"

He shook his head. "He's still in surgery. I'll come get you when they're done. In the meantime I suggest you get some sleep," with a gesture towards the bed and left.

Sleep seemed like an impossible dream, but she curled up in the bed and tried to sleep. He's going to be okay. He'll be fine. He's going to be okay…

With a snap her eyes popped open. A nurse was in the room checking on the other patient. The noise of her rattling the patient's chart must have been what woke her. As soon as she could get the nurse's attention she asked, "Can I see Kyle Reese?"

"Let me see," was all the answer she got. The nurse scurried off, hopefully to get her doctor since he promised to get her when Kyle could see her. Or she could at least see Kyle, if he'd not woken up yet. She laid on the bed listening to the beeps and whirrs of the machines hooked up to the patient next to her in silent contemplation of machine that had just tried to kill her and yet there was a machine next to her saving someone's life. This was not helping her sudden distaste for machines. Even the benign machine next to her was making her nervous, like any moment it was going to wake up and reach for her with those awful red eyes. An hour later the doctor finally returned with a wheelchair and a gentle expression.

"You've been asleep for so long we were worried you had gone into a coma too," he said jokingly. She looked at him with wild eyes. "You've been asleep almost twenty four hours. Looks like you really needed it." The he wheeled her off to see Kyle.

"He's in really bad shape," the doctor said, stopping at the door. "We're not sure if he'll even wake up. I just don't want you to get upset." The door was opened.

She had understood Kyle was severely injured. She had wiped blood from his eyes at the factory, but this… At the factory she could believe he would just get up and start running again. Hooked up to all the machines and covered in bandages was worse. It was real. He wasn't going to get up and start running again. She held back the threatening tears. He's going to wake up; she repeated her mantra a few more times and then rolled up to his bed and took his hand.

She didn't move for hours. The nurses came and went with no change. Her discharge papers written up. The police came and asked her questions. She gave the same vague story and hoped they would be satisfied. If they had any doubts all they had to do was scour the behind the factory to find the remains of the truck. The remembrance of running from that truck made her tired. She wondered how she could possibly run fast enough to get away from it. The nurse offered her some food and Sarah tried to eat knowing she needed the food, but only succeeded in moving it around the plate. Her wheel chair was changed for the less comfortable chair in the room, and still no change.

Another day. Sarah got a real breakfast in the hospital cafeteria feeling hungry for the first time in a day or two. Since Kyle came into her life. Then skipped lunch. She was holding Kyle's hand, probably too tightly, repeating her mantra so many times she forgot to be hungry. Falling asleep in the chair, still gripping his hand was all that was left.

That day turned into another. And another. Finally a week had passed. No change. The bandages had been changed out; some of his wounds were almost healed. The rest of the coma and regular nutrition was doing wonders for his ability to heal. Sarah, on the other hand, had change find her and noticed she smelled. Her clothes were the same she had been wearing when Kyle found her and they were filthy with dirt and grease from her ordeal. She found a motel nearby and got herself and nice long shower. She screwed up her courage and took a cab to her and Ginger's old apartment. After all that happened she would never live there again. The crime tape, already gone. The bodies removed and blood cleaned. Still the carnage remained. The broken door, the smashed glass. Sarah held her breath and ran into the bedroom. She grabbed the nearest duffel bag and stuffed all she could fit into it then swiftly walked out the door not thinking to lock it. No one would want to go in there. And nothing there held value for Sarah, that life was gone.

The motel room was to become her home as another week passed with no change. Then a month. Money was becoming a little thin as she passed her days only at the hospital. She finally remembered to call her mother. She's going to be pissed, she thought dropping her coin into the payphone. No answer, so she left the phone number to her motel and said she spent most of her days at the hospital nearby. "A friend was in an accident." That's a nice way of putting it, she thought bitterly.

A few days later a kindly looking sheriff deputy brought the bad news about her mother. She thanked him and then crumpled face first into Kyle's bed, burying her face in the sheets. The sobbing lasted an hour. Finally spent. There would be no more tears left in her. She fell asleep right there without moving her face from the tears staining the bed.

Another week passed and she finally made the trip to her mother's cabin to put some cash together. And straighten up the place. Kyle would like it, she thought. Secluded. Easily defensible and then there was the woods in full bloom of summer. This is where she would take him when he wakes up. She even stopped at a mall on her way back to pick out some clean clothes for him. She never doubted he would wake up.

Another month found Sarah deeply engrossed in some military book. She was trying to learn to be a good solider for both Kyle and John. This passage about how to assess a potential threat she thought was be an important part of a self-defense class as she thought how wrong she had been about the potential threat to her life. A strangled groan issued from the nearby bed. Sarah bolted to the bed just in time to see his eyelids flicker and open. "Sarah?" Barely a whisper. She smiled and gripped his hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips. Her eyes were moist, but there were no tears. Not anymore.

"We won," she said. No other words were needed. Relief filled his face. The silent peaceful welcoming gaze lasted until the nurse on her rounds found him awake and alert. A doctor was called, questions asked that he couldn't or didn't want to answer. Finally, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay." Well he wasn't okay, but to admit less would be a sign of weakness. If it wasn't going to kill him it wasn't worth mentioning. It would mean he wasn't able to complete his mission. He was eager to get back to the mission. He needed to get to a secluded place, so they could lay low. No other threat would get the jump on them again.

A doubting doctor said, "Well if you need anything let us know."

The healing ribs ached painfully every time he moved or breathed. His head felt like, well, he'd been hit with a metal arm and he had the impression he was going to need to learn to be right handed, his shoulder hurt so bad. But he was alive. Sarah was alive. He was fine.

They were finally afforded what little privacy an ICU room provides. The nurses gone back to rounds, the doctor seeing his other patients, the next door neighbor in a morphine induced sleep. Sarah leaned in close and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. One of the few places that she knew was completely healed. To Kyle she looked afraid to touch more than his hand. So he held out his good arm in invitation, needing to have her close. She wouldn't refuse such an invitation and curled up into the tiny bed next to him.

"I'm not hurting you?"

"No. It's fine." She might have believed him if he hadn't winced when she turned to look at him. He smiled thinly anyway, just happy to have to her near. Willing to put up with the discomfort to have her in his arms again. It felt like it'd be a long time since he'd held her.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." So she tried to be still and lightly rest her head in the crook of his good arm. There was plenty to talk about. Money was running out again. She was made aware that she hadn't had a period since weeks before all this happened. Where they should go. If her mother's cabin was enough for now. But it could wait. He was finally awake. It has taken nearly three months, but he was back. He couldn't believe it had been that long. When she told him, he has hugged her tighter to him, understanding why it felt like he hadn't held her. All the pain was gone the minute she kissed him. He had missed her picture for weeks till he came through the time machine. Now having the real thing, it worked even better for disconnecting the pain. Instead of feeling pain, he felt warmth in his heart.

Recovery was going well. He's slept through most of the worst pain and healing. So it wouldn't be long before he could leave, but the doctors wanted to watch him a little longer. He needed to do some exercises to work out his shoulder, if he ever hoped to use it normally again. He slept erratically. A few hours at a time before snapping awake. The strange environment and the nightmare he had been living, kept him from sleeping soundly, so the nurses would sometimes help him. He never liked it though. The scenes of destruction, death and despair from his life played over and over when he closed his eyes. The drugs didn't help that. It just made them last longer, if that was possible. All this made sleep an unpleasant but necessary evil. He had had only one night's rest without nightmares since he was a little boy and instead of fear waking him, Sarah had woken him. Running a light touch over his side. Tickling she called it. He smiled wistfully at that memory. He hadn't liked being tickled, but the look on her face when he had woken, was worth the torture. He wished she was there.

Sarah had taken a job at a local diner to get some money coming in a few weeks earlier. She hated to leave him alone like that, but it was necessary. She had to think of being able to buy food and any other supplies he might need. He already had a decent wardrobe put together, as getting him clothes made Sarah feel hopeful. But if he wanted to get any weapons, or ingredients to make more plastik, she needed money. She left books with him so he could try and learn about the time in which he was stuck. The history of wars between nations and racism made little sense to him. Humans had bigger things to worry about in his time. The only interspecies warring was over supplies. Food would get people killed, but it was rare. It was much more important to share everything. Humanity had to survive the machines. Racism was gone. As was sexism. He was surprised to learn that women were not allowed to fight in the military and only to provide support. In his time they fought alongside the men, shared the same woes. The only women that didn't were usually pregnant and even then they helped with medical or distribution until they gave birth. Human equality would be the one good thing that came out of a war with the machines.

Sarah loved to smuggle food into the hospital for him. The mystery of hot dogs, the sweetness of apple pie and one good steak were all part of this new cuisine she loved to share with him. His confusion of hot dogs had made it one of the first things she had brought him from the diner. "There's no actual dog in it. It's just ground meat. Mostly beef I think."

"You think?"

"Hey there's no dog in it. I know that. If we were in Mexico or something, I couldn't promise that, but other than that. It's a mystery what exactly goes into hot dogs." He was shocked that anyone would eat something and not know what it is. Even bigger a surprise was her look of complete satisfaction as bit into the dog. "Mmm. I've been craving one of these for months." The shock on his face made Sarah laugh so hard she nearly squirted her drink out her nose. "Just try it!" With a wary look he took a bite. She hadn't been sure if he would like everything on it, but turns out, he liked it very much that way.

"Okay. I tried it."

"And?"

Reluctantly, "It's good. I would really rather know what's in it, but it is good."

Then the big surprise. A steak and some pie for dessert. He'd never had a good beef steak before. Well it wasn't the best, but diner made a decent steak. He thought he'd died and gone to heaven. Well if flowers and grass could bring this man to tears, the steak about made him melt into butter. He even ate it slowly to savor every bite.

A last bite of some apple pie al a mode and he said, "I'm going to get fat."

Sarah burst into laughter. "You'll never be fat. It's just 'cause you're stuck here for now." In fact he looked the healthiest he'd been. He wasn't quite so gaunt. He had filled in a little around the ribs. She kind of missed the muscles bugling just below the skin, but having him move to show them off was a little better. He looked healthy. Color returned to his cheeks and if it hadn't been for the scars, he might have passed as completely normal and completely healed. He smiled at the thought of heading to the cabin she had told him about. It sounded like a safe, quiet place. The idea and the good food lifted his spirits. For the moment he could forget the pain, all of it. And enjoy the idea. He smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Two weeks after he woke up and they were finally headed to that cabin. A little detour for Kyle, thanks to the awful switchbacks that would make anyone sick and they were there. The woods looked lovely, full of life and flora. The great pines surrounding the house, but thankfully not close enough to be much good for anything but a sniper. A quick look around, told him the windows needed to be covered, the doors reinforced and some of the trees should go. Preferably as fuel. But it was easy to tell if someone was hanging around or if there was an intruder inside. It was good enough for Kyle. Generous tips would allow them to be self sufficient and well stocked with supplies for while. Sarah's impending motherhood had made her even more lovely and radiant. Kyle had noticed a change, but little did he know what was in store.

Poor Kyle. He still had no idea. Sarah wouldn't have much more time to tell him before John announced his presence to Kyle himself. She just wasn't sure how he would take it. It was a big responsibility. It wasn't in the original mission parameters. She still remembered how angry she was when she was told. And that was before it happened. How would Kyle accept his role as a father? Would he merely turn off and become a solider? Maybe he's figured out that he would be John's father and just didn't know she was already pregnant?

It only took two days after his homecoming before she just blurted it out. She had been thinking about it for a month or so. She had sat down with Kyle for breakfast. He appreciated the simplicity of a bowl of cereal and milk. Sarah was contemplating her role in John's life and how Kyle was going to fit into it over a bite of cereal. "Kyle, I'm pregnant." Another mouthful of cereal, shoveled in hastily. She almost hoped he didn't hear. Especially since she went running to the bathroom right after. Nerves and morning sickness. Not a good combination.

No such luck. Wiping her mouth and reaching for a cup of water to rinse with, she saw him standing in the doorway. He stood leaning on the door jamb while she swished the water around and spat. It was horribly unattractive and the way he was looking at her made her feel a little self conscience. She looked down and reached for a towel only to find it right before her. Kyle handed it to her and took hold of her around the waist. He had no words for this. Nothing prepared him for feeling anything like this. No tactical training, no briefing. He had so little experience with the softer feelings and emotions. He'd never felt anything like the pride he felt now. The love that created a life. And a great life at that.

Gently turning her towards him, he used the only language he had and kissed her. Gripping her to him tightly. His hands trying to say what he was feeling. Touching her face, running down her back and back up her shoulders. Finally twisting one hand into her hair before air became an issue.

"At least you're not mad." She smiled.

"No. Not mad." A slow and small smile played at his lips. Any smile was enough for her. Something about that curl of his lips would make her smile even bigger. Those lips that so often frown or wince in pain, a smile is a welcome change. Breakfast was out, but maybe…

Running her hand gently over his bruised ribs, "How's the pain?" Wanting to seem innocently concerned.

"Fine."

"Really?" she said with a raised eyebrow. "Cause I've got something I want you to do for me and I don't want to hurt you." She was teasing him. Leaning in close and almost whispered the last part in his ear. Even if the task was going to hurt, he'd never say so. Her warm breath on his ear was sending shivers down his spine. Conscience thought was completely out the window when her lips met his. He pulled her tightly against his chest, desperately wanting to be as close as possible. Drowning in her. There was no place he felt as human than in her arms. As free from pain and trouble. The emotions and pleasures washing over him as the clothes hit the floor or the chair, or in the case of one lonely sock, the lamp.

He loved the way she felt under his hands. Her skin so soft and smooth. The way her fingers moved over his scarred flesh leaving trails of fire under his skin. Her body was an absolute treasure trove. He wanted to take his time and explore every inch. His general inexperience with women left his unsure about what was okay and what wasn't. He wanted to indulge his desire and curiosity about Sarah's body. And so he took the plunge and started to trail his lips from hers and down her neck, down her chest, to the valley between her breasts. Gently placing one hand over her breast, he reached to kiss the other and was met by her arching into him. The sigh and low moan as his lips met the sensitive nipple encouraged his further touch. Kissing more forcefully and finally taking the hardened nipple into his mouth. A gasp. Another arch pressing herself against him. Her clear pleasure only making him more pleased and more willing to try other things. Sliding his hand off her breast down the small bump of stomach before tracing her thighs. This time a whimper and the word "tease" met him. A little confused he looked up and kissed her. As the kiss broke she took his hand and placed it where she really wanted it. Kyle couldn't help but obey and curious sat back on his heels to look and touch. Gently tracing the spilt skin before decided to delve between them. His name being pulled from her lips met his ears. Looking up, Sarah, head thrown back, eyes closed, mouth gasping in air, was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Wanting that look to continue, he slid his finger between the folds again and rubbed up and down the length before noticing that near the top made her gasp and moan more than anywhere else. He turned his attention to her clit. A few tentative strokes, another "Kyle!" and he was enraptured as she neared her peak. He leaned in close to her sex, having heard vague stories about the pleasures hidden there and kissed the spot he'd been rubbing. She went still and then shook as her climax passed though her, while he enjoyed the wonderful musky scent.

As the orgasm cleared, she reached out to him and only being able to reach his hair, pulled roughly so she could kiss him. Mid-kiss she pulled him into her. He broke away with a gasp at the amazing sensations. He rocked slowly to enjoy every feeling and flash of pleasure, grasping at the sheets above her for leverage. Another deep kiss, thrusts coming faster, the hands coming together and grasping each other in pleasure and ecstasy. A little harder and Kyle couldn't help himself. The climax burst through him and he trembled all the way to his toes.

Spent and satisfied in ways they hadn't been before, they lie in a sweaty lump of tangled limbs and feel asleep.

Sarah woke first, having gotten more rest than Kyle lately. She just watched him as he looked so peaceful, the nightmares being held at bay tonight. The tormented look gone or at least hidden behind the closed lids. She wanted to wake him before a nightmare could, but he needed the rest so badly. The battered body needed sleep. The soul needed to heal.

Reality returned to Kyle, but slowly for a change. No snap back from a horrible memory, just the lazy circles being drawn on his chest. A genuine, full smile graced his scarred face as he turned to look at Sarah. Words seemed inadequate but he needed to make sure she knew, "I love you, Sarah."

"I love you, Kyle Reese," she returned with some smug satisfaction. She looked like a cat being rubbed just the right way. A dangerous glint in her eyes made him pull her closer so he could grab her hands if needed. She rolled to lean over his chest with a quick glance to see if it hurt; it did but he didn't care. She kissed him lightly and while busy she started to tickle him. Again! In a flash of laughter he had her pinned down beneath him.

"You're not getting away with that again," he smiled through the threat.

"Oh yeah?" She started making tickling motions with her fingers while struggling to get free. Unfortunately for Sarah even with bruised ribs and a sore shoulder, Kyle was more than a match for her and she called a truce. She had bribed him with food, but her morning sickness struck before she could follow through. Instead Kyle held back her hair and rubbed her back softly, waiting for it to pass.

For such a hardened, terse solider, he could touch her so gently. Like a feather. Of course she'd never tell him that, it took away from his manly, tough exterior. She smiled at the thought.

"All better?" he asked.

"For now, thanks." Food would wait. Kyle was much more concerned for her comfort. She was everything to him. The mission. The reason. The world. The mother of his son. _His _son. He paused to comprehend it. John Connor was his son. He had to sit down. The last pieces of the puzzle fell into place. John had given him one hell of a mission. That thought shook him out of his reverie. He walked swiftly to the windows checking the woods and entrances for possible weaknesses. Any outside advantages. The soft filtered light from the trees, unseen. The flowers blanketing one hillside unthought-of. Instead of a home, it had become a place to hide, nothing more.

The sound of the door slamming shut got Sarah out of bed quickly. She opened the door and looked around to try and spot Kyle. She had to come out into the open to see him stalking up a hillside. He had spotted a possible weakness in the terrain and was assessing it. Solider-mode it was, she thought. He was lithe and powerful. He moved with the grace of a tiger. She just stood and watched him attempt to neutralize a cover-providing rock. He kicked at the dirt holding a large rock in place, trying to release it. Only when the task was complete did he noticed Sarah followed him out. He quickly ran down the hill and tried to escort her back into the house.

"I loved to come up here in the summer when I was a kid," she said, shaking off his attempts to drag her back inside. In fact, she got so annoyed she right down on the grass, just to make him stop. In resignation, he crouched down beside her, alert to everything else.

"I would walk up that hill, the one with the bad rock," she poked at him, finally getting some of his attention, "and watch the busy cities down below. It sounds dumb, but I'd look at all the city lights and pretend they were precious jewels in one big treasure chest. They always looked so pretty twinkling in the black sky."

It did sound dumb. Why would she want to think lights were just colored rocks? Then he stopped. He had seen a diamond, just once. It was found among the rubble and John had snatched it up. A rare treasure to give to his wife. Kyle remembered the flecks of color that danced in the middle of this clear crystal and suddenly wanted to see this treasure chest of light Sarah talking about. But it wasn't dark. It was only 1100.

"It sounds like a sight worth seeing," he finally replied.

"Would it be tactically acceptable to sit on a hilltop in the dark?"

He hesitated and looked around again. Scanning the woods and seeing nothing but a couple of squirrels and a handful of birds, sighed and said, "Yeah. Looks okay, I guess."

He was uncomfortable, but Sarah had won. She has conquered over his hard wired solider training. It was a small victory, but it meant she could help him learn to heal from the war. A baby step away from the terror, the deprivation, and rat-like instinct to hide.

In exchange, Sarah had begun to learn weapons and the same tactical insight that she had been poking fun of. The money they had besides the necessities had gotten them a large caliber hunting rifle and a simple revolver. Sarah needed something to learn on and the easier it was, the sooner she could learn. Kyle helped her learn how to dismantle both weapons and reassemble them. How to clean and care for guns. How to shoot. The nice thing about their place in the woods, there were no neighbors to complain about the homemade firing range. The trees Kyle had found unsafe where removed and used as targets in some way, until they needed the firewood. Empty cans and other bits of trash found themselves members of the shooting gallery of Sarah. Everyday her stance was more solid and her aim more accurate. Days when John prevented her from much activity either morning sickness or by being restless, were spent learning to spot those breaches of perimeter that Kyle noticed in seconds. She learned how to spot the small animals that doubled for assassins in seconds. Sarah was turning in to the legend and Kyle was surprised to learn how much of a role he had in that. Watching her blossom into a warrior before his eyes, made it harder for him to remember how much she was still just a woman. Seeing how important he had to be, he drew back as time went on. Trying to just be a teacher. Make sure she learned everything she could. Not getting bogged down in unimportant emotional things. She had been so busy learning and dealing with the affects of her pregnancy that she didn't notice when Kyle had turned into the solider again, even as she mastered what he could teach her. Both members of their little arsenal where mastered when the chill of winter was starting to be noticed in the Mountains. Winter comes late in southern California. Even in Big Bear snow often doesn't start falling until after Thanksgiving. It was time to leave their home. Snow would make it impossible to get around safety and if they wanted to expand their arsenal much more they would have to look to the black market. Mexico seemed like as good a place as any to head for. But they would forever have to worry about the authorities. Kyle was a legal resident of nowhere. He had no identity in this time. They would have to do something about that at some point.

Sarah sold her mom's cabin. The last remnant of her previous life. It also connected her to her future. The little cabin had been home for her and Kyle and they had made some pleasant memories there. Her inability to work out physically was unhampered in the bed room and Kyle loved to make sure she worked out thoroughly. Their intimacy was best found thorough their physical intimacy as Kyle communicated best with his body his adoration and love for Sarah. Sarah needed the bond to keep her grounded. So to leave that little home behind was a bitter sweet moment for both. There was no telling if they'd be able to find a home like it.

An old Jeep was loaded up with all the belongings they thought necessary and the German Sheppard they had acquired from an ad in a newspaper. South on the 15 freeway would take them to the deserted station where Sarah's photograph was taken. A nearly empty tank and some badly practiced Spanish made the stop indispensable. Kyle jumped out to handle the pump with an older Mexican man and the boy surprised her in the middle of a daydream about their first time. A sideways smile showed up in the Polaroid she paid four dollars for. Kyle started when he saw the picture she had tucked into the rearview mirror. He picked up and traced the lines noticing one glaring difference. Something had made her sad when he saw that picture last, now she looked happy. Content. He looked at her.

"This is the picture John gave me, except you weren't smiling in my picture. You look much more beautiful smiling." A little smile.

"Thank you. You said you wondered what I was thinking, right?" He nodded. "I was thinking of you."

He placed the picture back in the rearview lost in thought. Wondering if she had been thinking about him last time too. If maybe he wasn't supposed to have survived the Terminator. If they still won the war this way. Would his being here really change history that much? John had never told Kyle much about what he and his mother did before the war. But John had told him once he wished he'd grown up with a father before saying he'd died long before the war. Kyle hoped he would live up to the expectation John could have. He didn't say anything even as they pulled up to the latest shit-hole. They'd been jumping from place to place nearly every day since leaving the cabin. Sometimes spending nights in the Jeep, all three creatures cuddled together for warmth. Sarah missed the cabin dreadfully on those nights. The peace and safety of being wrapped in Kyle's arms for love and not just because he would freeze otherwise made a difference. Their run-ins with the less than savory gun-running types weren't always unpleasant. They had been able to make a few bucks moving cargo and they increased their stores of weapons with every stop. Before finding a trailer in a village where the runner often stopped. Sarah was getting too far along to be constantly on the move and this left them near a midwife and opportunities to make a quick buck. He still scanned every face in the village looking for potential threats, and held Sarah at arm's length at home.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**His solider instincts would be the wedge in their happiness. Not that either would admit it. His constant need to be alert often left Sarah talking to herself. Her desire to go out and do anything alone left Kyle nearly paralyzed with fear for her safety. The nightmares returned, especially when love-making became increasingly difficult. The more they moved, the harder it was for either to relax. The solace they tried to find eluded them.**

**The nightmares were the worst. The conscience solider training could be reasoned or bargained with, even occasionally simply shut off. On those rare days when Kyle could almost act normal and take short walks with Sarah. Or just go pick supplies for the week and come back inside carrying the paper bags with a sort of proud satisfaction of providing for his family. But at night, there was nothing they could do. Every few hours would have Kyle jumping out of bed reaching for the weapon that wasn't in his hands. The nightmares varied from memories of lost compatriots to losing Sarah or John, or both in the horrific ways the machines had invented. Once, just once, he actually screamed, awakening to a sound he'd never heard and Sarah never wanted to hear again. It was heart-wrenching. It was following a particularly brutal dream. He'd been back the in war. Full fatigues, trying to achieve some tactical mission, carrying some explosives. He'd been trying to set up when his partner was shot by one of the HKs. He knew this girl. She was a tough solider and a kind person. He had liked her. Losing her was a big blow to his psyche. He had never made another friend after her. He shook his head and hoped he could finish before he was shot. Then he looked up. Sarah was in the claw-like hands of one of the machines. Another machine had pulled up near and was starting to pull on her legs. Then ripping her in half. Her screaming cut short with the sound of baby crying as John was ripped from the bits of flesh left. The little baby was held on the monstrous claw, only making the baby seem even smaller. Kyle was rushing to the machines trying to save his family only his legs seemed to never work. He couldn't get them to move. He tried to fire off the bomb. Nothing. Then little John was squeezed and blood dripped from the claw. He had thought the screaming was part of the dream until he woke and heard the remnants of it still sounding in the room, with Sarah clinging to his arm, staring in fear.**

**He didn't know what to say to her. He told her it was a nightmare, without ever explaining what exactly it was about. He couldn't burden her with the awful future. The one time he'd told her about what life what like, she'd had her own nightmare about dogs. He had stopped trying to talk about what life had been like. He preferred for her to talk about what life what like now. He liked listening to her talk about the things she had done. It took his mind off his own past. **

**He'd often have trouble going back to sleep after a nightmare and took to going for a run, hoping to outrun the images that haunted him. It never worked but the exertion helped relax him. It was how he had dealt with the awful parts of everyday life in the war. The lack of sleep was starting to show again. He was getting just a little too thin, a little too gaunt. He had often been sleep-deprived during the war, but sheer exhaustion was a safe way to hide from the dreams. After a patrol, he just dropped to sleep, no dreams.**

**Sarah usually lay awake waiting for him to return from his run, which often stretched ten miles in hopes he could collapse into bed and get some rest. She was helpless to ease his fears or relax his mind. The growing John made these nights even longer as she was sapped for strength. She tried to ease his fears as best she could, but it wasn't enough.**

**She once tried to get him to take some sleeping pills. She never did again.**

"**Why would I want sleeping pills?" he had responded angrily. "They would only compromise my judgment."**

"**But you're only getting maybe four hours of sleep a night. That's not enough to live on!"**

"**I'm fine!" he's snarled. He was in fact used to getting very little sleep, but the dreams were grating on him. Constant reminders that he might not be adequate for the mission. That he would fail miserably and have to live with it. John had once told him his father died before the war started and Kyle wondered if maybe the Terminator would destroy him after all. The stress he was under was near a breaking point. He couldn't stand the idea that he could fail. He couldn't stand the thought of losing everything. The only time in his life he's been happy and he couldn't be because he was too afraid he would lose it. The nighttime runs were of little comfort. The dark sky was like a blanket that was smothering him. The sound of his breath as each foot hit the ground, a hiss of pain. The empty deserts provided no escape but the inky black made him wish that it would swallow him to escape from the pain. To escape from the memories of losing just about everyone he'd ever scared about. The only person he'd had any relationship with in 2029 was John Connor. He'd stopped spending time with his fellow soldiers. He'd lost too many friends to be willing to try and make new ones. He'd lost the ability to relate to most people. Sarah was the only one left he could communicate with, but the fear of losing her made him push her away. **

**The thought that Sarah believed he needed any help only pressed on that extremely tender, raw button. He also didn't know how to talk about the fears and feelings. So he took it out on Sarah. After he had stalked about their trailer, patrolling he'd told himself, he calmed down enough to think. He was sorry for snapping at her, but an apology would ring hollow without being able to explain why he'd snapped. He knew this. Like any good briefing, it needed explanations.**

**Hours after he'd slammed the door, Sarah was still trembling. She was trying to hide it by doing some dishes, but her hands were shaking. She'd never seen him angry before. Not like that. He'd pulled a gun on her once. A reflex to her pathetic assault. But there was no anger. The door knob turned and she nearly jumped out of her skin, but it was pushed open slowly, contritely. **

"**Sarah, look, I'm sorry I yelled at you," he heaved a sigh not sure if he was going to able to fix this. "The nightmares I have. They're not always about what happened, not always memories. Sometimes they're about you. Or John. And the machines do things and I can't stop them. I'm forced to watch either or sometimes both of you die. Horribly. And then I'm there alone. I've failed the most important mission of my life and I can't do anything about it. I keep worrying these dreams will come true. They seem so real, just like the ones I've lived. Knowing it's not true now, isn't enough. Even when you're right there in my arms these dreams haunt me. Knowing it could happen."**

**He stopped. He could say no more. Saying it out loud hurt. It stung at his eyes, as tears welled up, it made his knees tremble and finally give out as he slumped to the floor. Sarah was at his side in an instant pulling him to the couch. She pulled him tightly to her side and rested one hand on his knee. She just held him. He needed to understand and deal with the feelings on his own.**

**He just clung to her. Head on her shoulder, arms wrapped around her and the unborn John. "You can't live in the future, worrying about what-ifs. You'll go crazy. There are a million what-ifs out there. Hell, we're a what-if, right?" she tried to smile. "Remember, the future's not set. We have to plan to win. Okay?" Her eyes pleaded for understanding from him.**

**He nodded slowly, not loosening his grip. His own fears had almost made him fail without dying. He had almost done it all by himself. Love was the only reason he hadn't pushed her so far away he could never help them. She loved him. He needed to remember how much he loved her. He needed to trust this feeling which was hard since love was of little help to a solider. He needed to have to clear head. Love clouded the judgment, that's what he'd been taught. But he was a solider for humanity and it had forced him to almost forget how to be human. He put his mission before his own humanity and the relationship he'd been building. To protect his family he'd become the solider and turned off the man. "I'm not a mission. I'm a person. You don't own me!" he remembered Sarah yelling at him once. He'd lost that somehow, but he would find it again.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Begin stuck in the little village was actually good for them. Their rather unsavory contacts thankfully spoke English. They had to, as a lot of their clientele was in the states. Both Kyle and Sarah hated to contribute to the gang violence that gripped Los Angeles, but they needed these people for now. Their Spanish improved daily, but between that and their connections, the rest of the villagers would have little to do with them. These people became their friends. It was the only other relationship they had. Sometimes after a haul or loading up a truck, the guys would come back to the little trailer. Sarah was a decent cook and still made American meals, not yet having learned the primary South American dishes. Everyone enjoyed the different food, even if it was rather bland. Sometimes the guys just dropped by for a couple beers. Kyle wasn't much of a drinker. He didn't like the way alcohol made him feel, as it often just made his head hurt. But he would nurse one with the guys as they could polish off a six-pack each.

There were jokes made of him. Mostly in Spanish but Kyle knew when they laughed about "el gringo" they were having fun with him. He didn't really care. He would always be able to anticipate danger while they were sleeping off their intoxication. Only occasionally was he made fun of for his devotion to Sarah. If they were all hanging on the little porch Kyle had built and Sarah's silhouette would appear in the window, Kyle would watch her. The sly smile that often graced his mouth in those moments made the other men laugh with machismo. They all knew she carried his child.

He liked to watch Sarah when she wouldn't notice. The awkwardness of being in her last trimester balanced with her new found efficiency of movement. The solid stance that could hold up to the kick of a high powered rifle and yet the awkward way her belly caught a glass on the table. Of course the guys he was with would try to tease him about his prowess in the bedroom.

The subject of sex always made him uneasy. It was something he thought should only be discussed with whom it was taking place. Although he and Sarah rarely spoke about what happened in the bedroom. Only as a lead-in to it.

"I love the way you touch me," was once moaned prior to diving into bed. "I wish you would rub my clit more," was another whispered suggestion. Otherwise it wasn't brought up.

Trying to silence the sex talk he'd said, "I happen to love my wife. That's all." They used the titles for simplicity even though they'd never been formally or informally married.

"That much? All you do is watch her. I think your beer gets warm before you stop looking at her. Are you sure it's not just 'cause you can't wait to get her back into bed?" A general chuckle.

"I'll wait. When she's ready maybe. That's all." It wasn't working; they just wanted to ask more questions. One man understood Kyle though. He had married his wife ten years ago, had had plenty of children and he knew. The wistful gaze at Sarah's form was not about the last time they had sex, but with worry something might happen. How the child would change everything.

This man often provided Kyle the kind of jobs that were less illegal and closer to the trailer. He often had Kyle repair sheds, fix vehicles or other random handy-man jobs. Both Sarah and Kyle relished those jobs. It kept Kyle thinking about current cars and working with his hands. It also kept him close to home. And were usually wrapped up in an hour or so. They worked well for what he was willing to do as Sarah neared her due date.

Him and his wife were the closest thing to friends Sarah and Kyle had. Maria would help Sarah around the trailer, taught her some of the local cuisine and introduced Sarah to the town mid-wife. Hector helped Kyle build the porch and had tried to prepare Kyle for fatherhood, but Kyle was hard to talk to. Sarah was the only one that could talk to him and he wasn't listening to her much either.

February and John's birth were fast approaching. Sarah barely left the trailer, between the physical limits of being nine months pregnant and the rather shady nature of their contacts in the village, it was inadvisable. Her ankles refused to fit in her shoes and most days she preferred to hang around barefoot learning the new additions to their gun cache or playing with the dog. Kyle didn't seem to think a name for the dog was important, but to Sarah he was as much her friend as Kyle, so she called him Buddy. She loved to throw a ball for him around their trailer. It kept her occupied and helped Buddy stay fit.

It had become Kyle's job to do anything in town. He picked up provisions, made any purchases, but taking jobs that took longer than an hour or so was out of the question. He would not leave her alone much longer than that. Those hours to Sarah felt longer. Even if Kyle had closed himself off from her, his presence always made her feel safer. She thought Kyle's distance had to do with John's impending birth, and in a way she was right. The legend John Connor had told Kyle about was blossoming before his eyes. He couldn't see the woman who he had fallen in love with. He loved the legend too, but the vulnerable woman he'd met and seen in the photograph was who he fell in love with. He hadn't found that both the legend and the woman were one in the same, yet. He liked to hold her when she was sleeping because he could replay their days in the cabin and still cling to the woman he loved.

Being in such close quarters everyday made Kyle's lack of conversation a blaring omission. He never went beyond weapon care and maintenance, tactical support, latest purchases or a possible job. He never talked about his past or even John's birth. Even Sarah's attempts to interest him in her preparations for the birth, or even some of her plans for John couldn't get him to talk about it. She wanted to get some books to teach him to read. She was looking forward to his first words. Whether it would be "mama" or "dada" she hadn't decided. Kyle would never engage with her speculations. He couldn't think that far ahead. He wasn't as interested in this forward thinking. He was proud to be John's father, but was unsure what being a father entailed. He wasn't used to the idea. He didn't know he would have to play hide and seek with John. Or teach him how to build a temporary shelter. Or how to hot-wire his first car. He didn't know he would be the one teaching John all these things in the way only a father can. He couldn't see these things.

Sarah was worried. She didn't like how little he wanted to talk about these things. She tried to bring up her meeting with a midwife. "I had a meeting with the midwife today. She was trying to get me all prepped and I think she said something about how to breathe. I didn't understand her, so she just pointed to her mouth and went 'hehe, hoho'. Then I got it. It was funny." As she smiled in conclusion, hoping Kyle would too, he got up and went outside. He either hadn't heard her, or didn't want to. She pushed herself to her feet and followed him out. He was just standing in front of the trailer either thinking or scanning the perimeter again. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he spun to face her.

"Did you forget I live here, too?"

"What? No," he was confused. He hadn't expected her to follow him out. She never did anymore being either too tired or too preoccupied to want to know what he was doing.

"Then why did you leave just now?"

_I thought I heard something_, was the phrase on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitated to say it. It wasn't really true. The only thing he heard was Sarah joking about what to do in labor. Women died in childbirth. Both in the future and now. He knew this. He'd asked around and heard some gruesome stories of mothers and children dying. He regretted dragging her out to the middle of nowhere with no hospitals. Her chances would be better with in a hospital. Here there was an old woman. He was still unclear if she'd actually had a child herself. So Sarah's levity had appalled him. Did he really want to admit the truth to her? Her hand pressed his cheek when he didn't answer right away. That pressure told him he had to. He had to tell her the truth, even if it meant losing her.

"I'm scared." There he said it. It was just further proof he wasn't good enough for the mission. For Sarah. She seemed stronger than him now. She wouldn't need him anymore. Not if he was this scared over her giving birth.

"Scared? Of the birth, right?" He nodded. "Hey, I'm scared too, but we'll get through this. Just like everything else. We'll beat it, together. Besides John couldn't tell stories about a mother he never met, right?"

That comment stopped him in his tracks. That only reminded him of the future he lived. The one where John never really had a father. "But his father dies long before the war, remember? I'm still here. What if that changes things?" a trace of panic had laced his voice. It reminded her of the tense tone as he narrated the story of her future.

She hated to remember Kyle was supposed to die before the war. The tense tone of voice told her he didn't want to think about it either. It meant any day could be his last and he hadn't learned to be happy yet. "Well even if things are different, you'll be right here to protect me." She'd smiled both to reassure herself and Kyle. He just shook his head, in amusement at her optimism. He was still very, very worried about, well, everything. He was still worried something would happen. That John might not make it. That Sarah might not. That he wouldn't be the father that John needed or even be there at all. They weren't going to agree, but things could only get better after John's born and that hurdle was climbed over.

Which weren't many days after that conversation. The first contractions were nearly unnoticed. It took a little longer before Sarah needed to sit down and Kyle started to pace. He was worried and she was uncomfortable. They had been told they wouldn't need the midwife until labor actually started. It took hours more until Sarah's water broke and Kyle nearly tripped over his own feet running to get the midwife.

"El niño! El niño!" He had yelled while banging on the midwife's door. "Uh, agua. Mas." His limited Spanish not letting him say that her water broke, but really just "water" and "more". But the midwife understood. She laid a calming hand on Kyle's arm and said, "Toma tiempo." He understood that. "Takes time." He still ran back to the trailer.

Sarah was just getting comfortable on some old blankets. "Is she coming?"

"Yeah, I think she's on the way. Said it was going to take time." She nodded. He took her hand. The contractions hadn't even started yet, but he was beyond worried. The midwife arrived, and the waiting began. The midwife hadn't been exaggerating when she said it would take time. An hour in and Kyle was left just pacing the length of the trailer making everyone dizzy. The contractions were much closer, but still no sign of John.

"Can you stop pacing? Or go outside?" an irritated Sarah asked. He stopped and went back to her hand. She started to scream in pain as another contraction racked her. Finally it looked like it was time to start pushing as the midwife said, "Ya está listo." Sarah, ground her teeth and pushed. Her knuckles turning white around Kyle hand. He never noticed, not until much later when the purple bruises showed up around his hand. It took an hour before John finally showed his face. Screaming and pink. There he was. "Es un muchacho."

They already knew their baby was a boy. "Yes, his name is John," sighed Sarah.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Exhausted, but happy the little family curled up in bed together. After the afterbirth was delivered and Sarah cleaned up, Kyle pulled her up to lean on his chest with little John wrapped up tightly against her breast. Everyone was tired. It had been a long day. Even Kyle was ready to drop. He hadn't been able to stop moving once he knew what was going on. It was pacing, or fetching things or just trying to be helpful in the one place he would never be helpful. With his now purple and yellowish-green hands he rubbed her shoulders, lulling her to sleep finally. The gentle strokes of his thumbs along her shoulder and upper arms, releasing all the stress and tension from the birth. Her even breathing forcing his head to start bobbing and finally come to rest against hers and the headboard. A cuter picture could not be taken, until the baby started to cry.

The joys of parenthood had started. The jerk and start of Kyle and the groggy waking of Sarah to John's cries, would be the typical responses. Sarah checked John it see if he was wet then decided he must be hungry and just leaned back up against Kyle to let John feed.

"It's really started," Sarah said. "This is really real."

"Yeah. It really is." Kyle knew it. It was real. He'd seen it, but this was different. He was really a father. The father of John Connor. He knew John Connor was Sarah's son, but it was so difficult to imagine that he was also his son. Especially since if he hadn't traveled back in time he wouldn't be born for several more years. It was just mind-blowing. He looked at the little pink baby quietly sucking his milk and just marveled. "I'm a father," he whispered.

"Yeah. And I'm the mother of the leader of the resistance," she replied a little angry. She had never wanted this. It was a heavy load, but she wouldn't have to bear it alone. Kyle just didn't seem to getting it. He couldn't get over the idea of being a father. Not that they had to train their son to be this great leader. The training would come naturally to Kyle. He lived what John would have to fight. Kyle would even see the war won, but it wasn't the first thing he thought of.

"Yes. You are. I've told you that before."

"And why doesn't it seem to be bothering you?"

"Why would it? I never expected to have children. Ever. But I know we win the war. It shouldn't be hard to teach him what I've seen." He wasn't sure what she was getting at, but that was all it amounted to, to him.

"Never?"

"No. There wasn't anyone I wanted to be with, but you. I didn't know I would get to meet you. Let alone father a child."

"Would you like to hold your son?" she asked, realized he hadn't even held John yet. Kyle nodded, unsure. He'd never held a baby. He was an only child and he wasn't close to anyone who had children.

"Just hold out your arms, like this," she made a cradle with her arms and Kyle tried to imitate it. She placed John into his arms. He couldn't move. He was afraid he would drop him or hurt him. The beautiful blue eyes just started back at him. Kyle looked and looked and could just trace the features of the man he knew and had loved. The eyes that so well mirrored Sarah's, the shape of the strong jaw. That strangely resembled his own. In that moment he stopped to understand the man that he knew and how he was holding him in arms now, a squirming infant.

"I think he wants you back," and he held out the baby in the arms, reluctantly. He was finding it hard to stop looking at John. Everything was so strange and very, very real now. Sarah held out her arms and Kyle handed John over. The look she gave her son made it worth handing him over; her whole face lit up. He could see them both clearly in the light of the lamp. Whether she was scared or angry at the hand that had been dealt to her, she loved her son. She would do anything in her power to insure his survival, both as an infant in her care and as a man trying to save humanity. These quiet moments just holding him close would be her favorite moments, where she could cherish the child and not worry about the man.

Kyle couldn't yet let go of the man to see the child. Holding baby John in his arms had made an impression. The little yawn John made after being fed again helped. Watching his little family, it finally sunk in. This was no mission. This was life. He had to learn to live and not just complete a task or just survive, always looking over his shoulder. It may have saved their lives and shouldn't be completely abandoned, but he needed to learn to look forward as well. He needed to prepare the missions for his son and Sarah. He had to be the one leading the way.

Kyle only had vague memories of his father. He'd been pretty young when he was caught and sent to the extermination camp. Both his parents had been early causalities while he was there. But nothing about his childhood was normal. There had been no games of catch in the yard. No bike rides to friends' houses. Nothing, but scrounging and hiding. He tried to remember anything his father had taught him and all he could manage was the last thing he said to him, "You have to stay alive." We have to stay alive, he thought.

Sarah has fallen back to sleep, as had John and Kyle gently ran a light touch down her cheek, twisting a stray lock of hair between his fingers. Hoping to gain strength from her beauty for the battle taking place within him. Taking the first baby steps towards healing, he planned to teach John bravery. Kyle would make himself an example for John. He would face his fear of losing them and treasure every moment.

Did he notice the riff between them? Not yet, but there was hope. Kyle might be able to see how important it was to connect. He had expected to work in the morning, but he couldn't tear himself away. He needed to be there. There was no big bad to protect her from, but he needed to be there. Hector would forgive him this one time. Kyle finally nodded off again and slept without dreams for the first time in months. He needed that sleep so badly that he didn't even wake until late morning, long after John had started crying again.

Sarah had gotten up to change John and feed him again a few hours before Kyle woke up. She has already been told Kyle didn't need to work, since Maria had stopped by for a quick congratulations. It seems the midwife enjoyed gossiping. The news had traveled fast in the small village and those that cared were eager but respectful about sharing in the birth. Blue balloons had been strung on their porch while they slept. No one inside the little home noticed. They were prone to being private by the virtue of their strange tale, but didn't mind when they noticed the well-wishers. Maria "oohed" and "ahhed" over the handsome little boy, Hector made some cooing sounds and danced his large hands around the boy. Aside from a couple of the other runners and their wives, Kyle and Sarah weren't kept too busy.

The day winding down and the few dishes from dinner cleared and cleaned by Kyle, left Sarah feeding John on the sofa. Kyle made his way over and sat down. "If only they knew."

"How important he's going to bed?"

"Yeah."

"They don't need to know. They just need to know he's an adorable, healthy baby boy. They'll find out how special he is when they know him. I know he's going to be a brave, strong boy. He's got good genes." She smiled hoping Kyle would know she was talking about him.

John gripped Kyle's fingers while she was talking. "He already has a good grip." Kyle gave a half smile. "He'll be one hell of a fighter."

"His parents are pretty tough, I think." That got Kyle to smile fully. Sarah was a real trooper he knew. Kyle never really thought he had that same kind of toughness. He could handle physical pain just fine, but the emotional pain, he'd needed something else to focus on. Sarah took it so well, she didn't need him, but he needed her. The way she had said he was tough also made it seem okay. That it was okay to need her. He could still be tough and need her.

He reached out and touched her cheek. He couldn't explain that she was his only anchor in this world he didn't belong in, but she started to understand. She placed her hand over his and hoped she could be everything he needed. With the simple gesture and a look it looked like everything would be alright. That the world wouldn't end, they would be together forever and little John… Well he wanted to be picked up and choose that moment to start crying again.

A gentle chuckle, Kyle scooped him up from his mother's lap and held him close, ending his cries for now. Sarah laughed at the picture. The great John Conner and his vigilant solider were gone for a minute, only a father and his son were left. If only this moment would never end, thought Sarah.

It was over nearly as soon as it started, a knock at the door ruptured the family peace inside. Kyle gave John back to Sarah and answered the door. It was Hector, alone, looking apologetic. Something was wrong. "What's going on?"

"We need you to help load a truck," Hector replied. He looked wrong. He was shifting his feet, looking at the ground.

"There's no one else? My wife just had a baby," he answered confused. He shifted his eyed around the sands looking for any other parties. Not really hearing Hector's answer instead listening for anyone moving around. It was late and the villagers were all either in bed or at the bar on the other side of town. The silence was worrying Kyle. He couldn't hear any owls hunting or any scorpions scuttling over the sand. The nighttime sounds were gone.

Hoping he kept his voice low enough, "What's going on?"

"We really need your help," Hector said loudly, then in a hiss. "Other runners. They have my family."

"Fine. I'll be right there." Hector shook his head, but Kyle went back into the house "to change" he'd said. Instead he grabbed a concealable 9mm and told Sarah quickly what was going on. Mexican gunner runners were always looking to score a free shipment or two and in need of good places to load up. Their little village was not ideal, but close to it. Normally they would just go after the bosses and any guns and just hire the same workers, most didn't care who they worked so long as they got paid, but these people… They were a drug cartel. They were moving in and cleaning up. Anyone that didn't pledge loyalty would be killed.

Sarah took John to a back room; they had prepared for this kind of thing and walked Kyle back to the door. "We'll miss you sweetie. Be careful," she said emphasizing the last word.

Kyle met Hector at the bottom of his porch. "How many?" he whispered.

"Three," he hissed back, nodding his head in the direction they would meet them. Kyle was ready. His adrenalin flowing he almost forgot these would only be men and not machines. The goons appeared Kyle knelt like he'd dropped something. Moving with the coiled the grace of a striking snake, he'd dropped one guy before the others blinked. The lithe form nearly disappeared into the black, thanks to the black shirt. With a tiger's speed and grace he'd brought the other two in seconds.

Hector had no idea what just happened. "Where did you learn that?"

"War," was Kyle's terse answer. "Is your family still at home or did they take them somewhere?"

"At the house, why?"

"We're going to get them out and then get out of here." Kyle would help who he could but this wasn't his war. They were after him and his family and they needed to move. He took the guns off the fallen men and handed a couple to Hector. "Let's move."

They ran back towards Hector's home, only Hector couldn't keep up with Kyle's fast and smooth pace. Kyle was still in peak form, but Hector was a little soggy around the middle. Kyle was scouting out sentry positions when Hector caught up, panting.

"Shhh! Only one guard outside. Any ideas about inside?" Hector shook his head. A bunch of men had stormed through the door, but he had no idea how many might have stayed behind.

Gently kicking a rock, the one guard merely came to investigate - thinking either it was someone reporting back or a dog. Kyle got the drop on him without a sound. He then moved swiftly to a window trying to see if he could get a count on the number inside. All the blinds had been pulled. He thought maybe he could draw them out, but worried it might alert those inside and get Hector's family killed. As he crouched considering his options a curtain fluttered not three feet from him. A kitchen window was open. He crawled along the wall until he was under the window then looked up to see if any shadows were hovering near. Seeing nothing, he glanced at Hector ten feet away, gave a nod and then glanced up. Leaning on the very edge of the wall he caught sight of two shadows crossing in the kitchen, another in a chair. Then he had to duck back down. Not good, he thought. Creeping back out to where Hector waited Kyle made ready his update. "There's two I could see. I'm guessing Maria is in the chair with them in the kitchen, meaning there's more. At least two more with the kids." Hector had two boys and three very young girls. "I'm sorry, this doesn't look good."

Persistent barking broke the night air, both chilling his blood and gave him an idea. Sarah can handle herself, he thought quickly. A quick shake of the head to clear his fear from his thoughts he asked, "Did they tie up your dogs? I don't see them."

"They must've. I didn't." They snuck to the shed near the house and quietly released the dogs. Kyle was hoping the barking would draw someone out to tie them back up. Someone was sent out and Kyle was waiting with a view into the house. He caught sight of three more. Shit. He dropped the clueless man, tied the dogs back up and sat down. At least five men inside. Men that would kill an innocent woman and her children. When did men become so monstrous, he though?

"Got a plan?" Hector questioned eagerly. Kyle had given him hope that they could save his family. Kyle only shook his head. The machines wouldn't do something like this. The hostages would be dead already. A frontal assault would get them all killed, guerrilla tactics would get some of the hostages killed. He didn't know what to do. Unfortunately the cartel leaders did. After the trick with the dogs and the comrade failing to return they had found and surrounded the two men in minutes. Guns surrounding them, hands went into the air.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Sarah watched Kyle leave and then ran back to their safe room. It was only a spare bedroom on the outside, but Kyle had learned to squirrel things away from a young age. They had built a trap door leading to a basement of sorts that had an emergency exit leading away from the trailer. The room was lined with various weapons, pistols, rifles, automatics and semis. Even a grenade launcher. It had been damaged in transport and they fixed it and kept it. With John in her arms she selected a few guns she could easily carry, hid the traces of their exit and walked down the passage. Barking started. Oh, Buddy, she thought. Knowing it would be the last time she heard his bark.

Smashing wood and muffled yells followed her down their tunnel. As she reached the end she listened intently. She heard some shuffling, shouting and one gun shot, but they all seemed to be echoing from the trailer and nothing over head. Gently lifting up the cover she scanned the terrain. A car was parked nearby but it must have belonged to the men invading her trailer since it was unoccupied. The faintest whiff of cigarette smoke made her freeze. The orange blaze painted a spot light on the man that got the short straw and was guarding the car. She lowered the covering very slowly. She was afraid to discharge a gun this close to the men. Trusting to the heavy cover and dense earth she decided to wait them out, she walked back towards the trailer to listen for them leaving.

She couldn't read her watch in the dark, but it must have been half an hour before the boots moved away from her roof. John had luckily been too sleepy to put her in any jeopardy. She walked to the escape exit and waited for the car to drive off. She knew they would leave someone at house to wait for her to come back. The car sounds gone; she pulled herself out of the hole and covered it again. No need for anyone to find it now, she thought.

Stopping to fill a canteen at a well off their property she headed for the designated rendezvous. They had to stay so long in that trailer that they had planned this out in advance. She was supposed to wait there no more than three hours, then go on without him. She had no such plans, even if she did, she was so tired by the time she reached the rocky outcrop she'd fallen asleep until the sun came out. A glance at her watch said it was nearly nine in the morning.

What happened to Kyle? She looked around there were no signs of having been visited by anything but local wildlife. She quickly checked John for any bites or stings, but he was happily cooing away looking at a white butterfly. She smiled for a second, and then her thoughts traveled back to Kyle.

The rendezvous point had been supplied with provisions, like water, food and some clean pairs of underwear. She knew it was safe here. There were no dwellings nearby, and the nearest road was within an hour's hike. She could take John and get moving, but not without Kyle. She needed to know if he was even still alive and if she could save him, but how was she supposed to do that with John? He could start crying at any moment and blow her cover. She could only assume heading back into town would get them both killed quickly. She would have to wait until dark before she could look for Kyle.

*********

Kyle's head snapped back. He was bloodied, had a black eye and a split lip. He just looked vacantly back at the man who had hit him.

"Where're the fucking guns at?!" He punched him again. Kyle had already tried to tell them he didn't know, but they didn't believe him. There was nothing he could do. He really didn't know, he just loaded the trucks when they were ready to go. They hadn't told him where they stored anything. They had gotten the impression he was higher on the food chain from his tactical attack of Hector's home and his wife's ability to disappear. They didn't understand he had only been trying to save Hector's family and that he was afraid of something scarier than an angry mob boss. Kyle just sat, tied to a chair and waited. For a moment to escape or when they got tired of his non -answer. Well weren't they the same?

"Hello?" A slap. "Anyone in there? Yo, fucker just answer the damn question."

"I don't know," he said firmly.

"Throw him in the room over there. My hand hurts. Maybe he'll remember before we shoot him," the thug said finally.

Two guys picked him up by the arms and dumped him in a room that normally was used to store ammunition. It was a clean room, by some standards but it had no windows and when the door was shut, was pitch black. The cartel moving in had already shot and removed the remains of the smugglers running things before Kyle and Hector were picked up. Kyle didn't know what happened to Hector as the men pulled him up, blindfolded him and brought him to El Jehe back at the shipping warehouse where Kyle had loaded the trucks. As least he knew where he was, not that the ammo room was a great place to be. No exits but the door and that would be locked. He could try to take down the guys send to get him later, but the building was filled with cartel men. He hoped they might take him outside to shoot him at least. There he might be able to get away.

They left him there for two hours. He sat cross legged on the floor and just thought about Sarah. Knowing she got away, wondering if she's hitched a ride and was hours from here. He'd pictured her heading back to L.A. and enrolling John in school and her being a waitress again before the clanging metal interrupted his daydream. The light in the room snapped on and four guys entered.

"Remember anything?" one sneered.

"Nothing to remember. They never told me," he tried one last time, knowing it wouldn't

matter. Instead he focused on gauging the men. One was short, but built like a tank. Another was tall and lean, the third tall and thick. The last held a gun openly. He was thin and only middle height. The other three had their guns in their holsters. That would be the guy to hit if only he could get at him. Two of the guys grabbed him under the arms again and mostly dragged him down the hall. He let them drag him. He was tired, the night before had been busy. Thankfully he wasn't too injured, just a few bruised ribs and some superficial face wounds. Nothing he couldn't live with.

The men had formed a sort of diamond around him, two at the side, one in front opening doors and the thin man with the gun bringing up the rear. They were pretty close together; the gunman was hanging back though. They may not have seen Kyle in action, but they had heard he was fast. They pushed open the doors to the outside. It was dark, again, thought Kyle gloomily. My son is two days old and is losing his father already.

He hadn't seen his opening. These guys were professional; they were used to men fighting back. They just drug Kyle like a sack of potatoes, his boots leaving a trail in the sand. They finally dumped him into a heap on the earth a little ways from the warehouse. "No need to make a mess nearby," the boss had joked, "just leave it for the coyotes."

All he needed to do was get away. He looked at the men, no, monsters worse than the machines, and gathered every ounce of strength in him. They had all backed away, so they wouldn't be shot as well. The gunman raised the pistol into his sightline, "So long sucker."

This is it, he thought, now or never. Before the man could get his aim set, Kyle bolted. Spraying sand hit the goons' faces as his boots dug in. He had no idea if it was going to work. He hadn't seen any rocks to hide behind; he just knew he could out run these guys. And he had to run. He had to live. He was twenty yards out before the men even knew what happened. The gunman tried to take aim at the flesh-colored blur, but hit nothing.

The sand shrapnel pelted Kyle's exposed flesh, but he didn't feel anything. The boom of the gun grew more muffled as he ran, but he didn't risk a look back. No car engines fired, no more sand ripped at his skin, but he kept going. In fact he didn't even slow down until he caught a glimpse of Hector's house. He skidded to a halt. He needed to know what happened to his friend. He had been hesitant to get close to anyone, but Hector kept trying. Kyle wouldn't have admitted it, but they were friends. At least as close as he had gotten in years. And now he just wanted to see

if he was alright.

He glanced quickly around the grounds, but didn't see anything amiss. The dogs were still tied where they had left them last night. Nobody was pacing around, no cigarette butts that would have been out of place. Nothing. It was quiet though. It must be later than he had thought. The kids must be in bed already. Se he knocked softly at the door. It had opened at his touch. They must've been let go and ran, he thought. He entered hoping to grab a few essential for himself, before he nearly tripped over the first body. The youngest girl had been shot just once. Kyle froze. He knew what happened. He would find Maria's body slumped in the chair in the kitchen, dead long before he'd been looked to. The kids killed where they were found. One in a bedroom, another in a closet trying to hide, and so on. The carnage was…

Kyle retched. The smell of death had covered the once happy home. This was man's handiwork.

He bolted from the house and ran over Sarah crouching in a bush nearby. Kyle was sent sprawling since Sarah had thought he was attacking her and John. She had tucked John into a backpack, hoping it would be easier to carry than the usual baby carrier. Thankfully the baby had been quiet the whole night, but it had only been dark a few hours. Sarah spun to face her attacker, who was scrambling to his feet. "Kyle?"

"Sarah!" He grasped her tightly. "Why are you here? I told you leave if you didn't hear from me." He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the house.

"How am I supposed to make John this great leader without you? Besides if I couldn't save you what good am I?" He just looked at her. Her determination was endearing, but she could've got herself killed.

"Where's John?"

"Right here," she gestured to the backpack. "It was safer than leaving him in the rocks." Kyle was astonished. Not only did she risk herself, but John too.

"What if he cried while you were out here? You could've both been killed!" He was angry. He wasn't worth the risk she had taken. It was ridiculous and stupid.

"Well I was going to try and leave him with Maria to look for you; I thought if they had Hector they wouldn't be guarding his family anymore." She paused. "Why did you run out of their house?"

"They're dead." Kyle continued to pull her along heading for their spot in the desert. It was the only place he could think to go. In fact he wasn't thinking. It was natural for him to return to a place like that when he had nothing left. He looked to hide from all the bad things be it machines, loneness, pain or despair. He blindly marched on to the rocky outcrop not noticing his iron grip on her arm or the near run at which he was marching.

"Stop." She tried to pull her arm out. "Stop!" She stopped moving and only got pulled off her feet for her trouble. "Stop it! Kyle!!" she screeched and wrenched her arm free. He barely noticed. His arm shook and its grip loosened but he kept going. The images of Hector's little girl curled up on the floor, hugging a teddy bear, in a pool of blood haunted him. He just wanted to escape. To outrun this new horror. He even forgot about Sarah and John for a moment. Awareness slowly crept back and only his steps rang in his ears. He looked back, Sarah wasn't there. He stopped. Turned and looked around.

Sarah had sat down on a small rock nearly fifteen minutes before Kyle came back to himself. She was beyond exhausted. She stopped to take a break from the furious march Kyle had set. She knew where he was heading and would just catch up with him there. She needed to stop and nurse her bruised her arm and tired feet. Her light colored blouse fluttered in a soft breeze. If Kyle noticed she was missing he'd have no trouble finding her. She frowned at the thought. He was nearly invisible out here, but then the blouse was more for John since she hadn't expected the attack. Can never be too careful, she thought, reminded of Kyle's largely dark colored clothes.

A very light crunch brought her straight to her feet, gun in hand. She spun to the sound only to find Kyle. He was looking at her again, appreciating the contradiction of her flowing blouse and loose pants with the gun expertly pointed at his chest. "Looks like you were listening."

"Revenge," she said with a shrug and lowered the weapon. He didn't smile, but a gave an acknowledging nod.

"Come on. Let's go," he said gently. He held out his hand, but she brushed past him. He'd panicked and hurt her. She wasn't ready to forgive him just yet, but it was time to get moving. He just followed, trying to slow down to her pace. He wasn't ready to say what he had seen, so they just hiked the last two miles silence. Reaching the rocks they both collapsed. Tired didn't even begin to cover what they felt. Kyle had gone without sleep for over twenty four hours and she'd exerted herself beyond what most two day mothers would be capable of. Sarah wrapped John in the blanket she'd carried him out of danger in and then placed him in a shallow depression and curled up against Kyle. The only way to stay warm for them was to be in each other's arms. Where they wanted to be anyway.

The sunrise was warm on their cheeks. It was stunning that morning with its pinks and oranges, but the slumbering couple wouldn't wake to see it. John awoke to watch the animals basking in the first rays of light. The lizards climbing the rocks around them to sun themselves fascinated John. He cooed and waved his chubby little fingers in their direction. He would be pleasantly engaged in watching lizards and butterflies when his parents finally woke up. It was still early, but the sun was fully settled in the sky and a look at Sarah's watch told them it was seven thirty. She dropped her arm dramatically, "Do we have to get up?"

"We should," he replied, not making any effort to follow through. He was stiff and probably would have slept all day; he just knew they should get moving out of the area.

"Mmmm. We should," she agreed, snuggling further into his embrace. Finally John decided for them, demanding breakfast. A little bustle to get John fed and prepare something for themselves and they were ready to go.

"Think we'll ever come back?" she asked, hopeful. They almost had another home here. It had everything they needed.

"I don't think so," he said. He couldn't get that little girl out of his head when he looked toward that village. He was never too attached to any one place, but he knew she liked it there. There was nothing there now, but a cache of weapons. Those can be lifted at any time. It was too hot for them now. They were supposed to lay low. Keep safe. This was why he didn't make friends. They needed to keep moving, not stay in one place so long. Even if the machines didn't get them, other men would. Other men weren't good. They killed little children for nothing. He shuddered and turned to head to the highway, placing a hand on Sarah's arm.

"Ow! Shit, that stings." She lifted the sleeve of blouse and was meet by a large angry bruise in the shape of a hand. Kyle was floored. He'd had no idea that he'd grabbed her so hard. He stammered apology after apology. She just shrugged.

"It would really help if you would tell me what freaked you out last night." He didn't know how to say it. The words caught in his throat and he just shook his head.

"I had no idea how cruel men could be," he said slowly.

"They killed them all?" She was astonished and shocked.

"Yeah. Every single one." He looked away. Sarah had started to cry and he couldn't watch that. "I had no idea men could be so monstrous."

She reached out and hugged him. They just leaned into each other for a moment and mourned their friends and the poor children. Then turned to the highway together and strode off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The walk from the rocky outcrop seemed longer than the two hours they had clocked before. They were both walking slowly in thought. Sarah was already missing the little trailer that had been home for the last couple months. Kyle couldn't erase the memories of Hector and his family. He felt like he should have done more to help them. He felt it was his fault that they were dead. If he'd just done what the gangsters wanted maybe Hector's family would still be alive. He had to try and shake these thoughts from his head. He had saved John and Sarah. That was all that mattered. No one else mattered. John and Sarah went before everyone else. They needed to keep their heads down and live through the coming years, until Judgment Day. They had too. Many more families would die needlessly then. And the human race might disappear if John and Sarah didn't live. He had to remind himself of his mission, because that was the only way to chase thoughts of Hector's family away and the feeling that he failed them and was continuing to fail them now. It didn't work long enough.

"We need to go back," he finally said. He needed to do something for them. Even if it was just to cremate the house and family. Sarah nodded. She knew it wasn't for the reason she would like, because they wouldn't live there anymore, but it was right. They weren't sure what they could do or even would be able to do, but it would be done.

Kyle shared his thoughts on what should be done at the house as they turned back towards the village and she agreed. It was something they could do quickly and it was still respectful. The house would make an appropriate funeral pyre. It was the place where the family had been happiest. It would be a proper tribute for them. If they ran into any of the cartel members, well they would just have to get out of the way.

They were able to double-time it back towards the village. The little plans they had made would keep them occupied until they had reached the outskirts of town. They knew that just walking in there would draw targets on their backs, but so long as they skirted the town they would be able to get very close to Hector's house without much trouble.

It was nearly midday when they reached the area of desert nearest Hector's former home. They could just see the roof of the house from their vantage point outside of the village. They had to stop to assess the area and to get some refreshment. The poor baby was starting to cry because he was hungry and dirty and both his parents were hot and hungry as well. John had to be attended to immediately since his cries of displeasure could alert the whole village to their whereabouts.

"If you get the food out, I'll take care of John," Sarah said, noticing he was getting a little fussy. "Poor baby's got to be hot and hungry."

"And dirty," Kyle said wrinkling up his nose as she lifted him out of the pack. Tactical operations with the baby in tow are not advisable, thought Kyle. A little of their extra water would take care of the smell, he hoped. He was a little worried about running out of water since washing John hadn't figured into his planning. But they could always fill up again on their way to the highway. There were a few wells between the house and the highway. They should be okay with water. Food was a little different. Sarah was starving and nearly ate the whole hidden ration before Kyle could get away from the cartel men. And she still was running on empty, since she was producing milk for John. They needed more food than they had. Kyle looked at what was left of their rations and thought they might want to try to scavenge more from Hector's house before they torched it. He never did make it further than the front room after finding them dead. He didn't like the idea of going back in there, but they were going to need a lot more food just to make it to the highway.

"This is the last of it, so go easy," he told Sarah handing her the last can of beans and a spoon. He wasn't planning on eating any of it; he knew she needed it more. He'd be fine without it. He just wanted to make sure she got enough to feel full for now and to eat slowly. That always makes food seem to last longer. She keenly started to eat before noticing that Kyle hadn't eaten any.

"Want some?" she reached the can out to Kyle. He just shook his head. She looked at him a little confused, but that didn't stop her from finishing the can. She could've eaten an entire buffalo she was so hungry. John was really going to take a lot out of her. Kyle could live on a lot less than he had been recently. 1984 was a walk in the park compared to what he'd been subsisting on in 2029, even if he was forced to skip a meal or two in favor of the nursing female. A slight smile escaped his lips as he watched her scrape the can clean.

He'd been keeping any eye out over the barren landscape while they finished up taking care of some things. It looks like the cartel wasn't worried about anyone coming back there. They packed up the few things they'd used and headed quickly over to the house.

"Head around to the shed and see if they have anything flammable," Kyle directed as they approached. He wasn't going to let her see the carnage inside if he could help it. He would take care of scavenging and ready the house himself. He knew what to expect. He opened the door and was met by the stench of decay. The doors and windows had been left shut, so no animals had eaten the remains. Cold comfort, though Kyle. Stepping carefully around the blood and bodies he made his way into the kitchen and pulled everything that was edible into the nearest bag he could find. Then needing some fresh air, he ran back outside. Just in time to prevent Sarah from following him in.

"They had some gas and turpentine," she held up her bounty. She looked over his shoulder into the front room. She couldn't really see anything and Kyle moved to quickly to block her view.

"Matches?" He'd forgotten to look in the house for something to set the fire with.

"Yeah, I think there are some right here," she said digging through her pack and finally pulled a box out triumphantly.

"Okay, wait here. I'll take care of it."

"I want to help, they were my friends too," she protested.

"Do you know what's inside? Do you think you can handle it?" he responded pointing behind him.

"I have no idea, but I'm supposed to this great leader, if I don't learn to handle death, what good will I be?" and with that she marched right past him. She stopped as soon as she spotted the smallest girl, surrounded with flies and blood. She did just slightly better than Kyle and didn't vomit, but she was disturbed. No wonder he wanted to leave this place as fast as he could, she thought.

He followed her back into the house and reached a hand out to her shoulders while she stared at the child. She looked back to him. He set his face grimly and held up the gasoline. She nodded and took her can of turpentine and headed towards the back room. As she poured the liquid over the furniture and the few bodies she found, she understood why they both needed to do this. It was their way of saying goodbye. They hadn't gone looking for friends and certainly never wanted anything like this to happen, but they had to say goodbye. If Kyle felt the need to do more than that, then she wouldn't stand in the way. With her can emptied, she walked back out of the house that had once been so cheerful. So full of children's screams of joy, loving words and happiness, now empty. Just a tomb.

"Ready?" She nodded and he struck the match and threw it into the doorway. They backed up and watched the house burn. The fire started slow, but as it spread its cleansing flame it released the pent up sadness of both watching. It was cleansing them as well. The black smoke billowing into the air gave them the warning that they should clear out before someone noticed. They turned and walked away from the last of their memories from there. If they met with no further interruptions they would be gone from the village for many years to come.

It was their fate that nothing would ever go smoothly for them. The black smoke had given them away and they had barely cleared the property before the shooting started. Kyle pulled Sarah to the ground as the first shot hit the sand not ten feet from them. Thankfully they had some cover this time around. A large grouping of cactus was the only thing between them and the bullets.

"Fuck! They're going down," he exclaimed. He pulled one of the pistols out of the pack and tried to find where the shots were coming from. Sarah pulled out the other one and followed his lead. The sand bit into their eyes and made it hard to locate the shooters. John was born for this; since once the shooting started he neither moved nor made a sound that could have compromised their parents. Neither Kyle nor Sarah would notice, but he was born with the ability to understand war.

Finally Kyle saw something moving. It looked like a man with a machine gun. He took aim and fired. The hulking shape went down. It was too far for him to go after the weapon. There was no cover between them, so he'd have to choose his shots carefully. Sarah spotted another man and took aim. She must have missed since a volley of bullets followed her shot.

The top of one of the cacti fell, narrowly missing Kyle's head. It was time to move. He scanned the immediate area and saw nothing better. They were pinned down. Hopefully there wouldn't be too many men and they could take them down before the cactus was gone. He fired another shot. Another body slumped over. The shots were a little less frequent. He could only hope that meant there were fewer shooters now. He got off another shot and another clean kill it appeared to be. In fact there seemed to be no more bullets. It had gone quiet. They both frantically scanned the terrain for any more men. Hoping they would be able to escape quietly. A full minute passed without another gunshot.

They both looked at each other. They were going to risk the chance and make a run for it, before another other men could come. They made a dash from the cacti towards some low lying hills only a few minute run away. As they neared the slope the shots started again. With a final burst of speed they were over the tip and laying low they were able to spot these other shooters. They had been waiting for Kyle and Sarah to make a break for it. It worked, and now they had little cover, but a better sense of the numbers sent against them. There were ten men lined up around the hills sent to take them out. The boss certainly didn't underestimate the abilities of Kyle and Sarah. Even if they could reach their rocky outcrop it was not set up to provide them with weapons. It was meant as a last stop out of town. They should have already collected the weapons they wanted from their basement before stopping there. Kyle checked his clip. It was still mostly full. Sarah had only fired off two shots, so they had plenty of bullets they hoped. Tucking John beneath her, Sarah settled on her stomach to try and get some shots off. Digging into all her training to locate the target and aiming carefully, she dropped one. There were no words spent between them. No praise for her perfect shot, just the answering boom from his own pistol taking another man down.

Two more shots spent. Two more men down. It looked like they might actually be able to take them all down, even if it was one at a time. Kyle quickly glanced down the hillside from them to make sure they could get away and was relieved to find the coast clear. He looked back over to the shooters. Then he saw someone who made his blood run cold. The boss was there overlooking the operation to assassinate him and Sarah and their infant son. He would do anything to get at that man and remove him from humanity. There was no humanity in him. He didn't deserve to live. He carefully lined up the best shot he had. It wasn't a very good one, but he took it. Grazing the boss's ear, he took another. The cartel leader had turned in to look where the shot came from, that was his fatal mistake. The shot passed through his torso, spraying the nearby gunner with blood and gore.

"The leader's dead, let's get out of here," Kyle said finally. The revenge killing had not made him feel better. He did make him feel safer. He felt the world was a better place without the cartel boss in it, but he didn't feel any better.

"Will we make it?" she looked hesitantly down the hillside. The bullets had not stopped even when Kyle felled their leader. Now the gunmen wanted revenge before they would be thrown into the usual confusion of having no real leadership. He looked back up and then nodded and they crabbed their way down the hill and beyond the sights of the cartel. Finally they were free of their village. They both had no desire to return anymore. The pleasant memories they had were tainted by the death that everything came to. The sad ending of their little home, they both hoped it wasn't the fate of their homes to come. At least Sarah was sure she wanted to try and make another home somewhere else.

"So where to, now?" she asked.

"I don't know. Further south maybe? You'll have to tell me."

"I've heard Honduras is nice this time of year," she wryly responded.

"Okay." He didn't really get the joke, but he would do anything she wanted. They were quite a team. She hadn't surpassed him yet. He could still perform his primary duty: to protect them both. He had even done so, just now and if it wasn't for him they would have been dead in the trailer a day ago. He still mattered to both of them. He had even been able to make John stop crying a few times. He looked at Sarah walking beside and smiled. Really smiled. He might just learn to be happy yet.

Sarah caught him smiling at her and laughed. "What are you looking at?"

"Something beautiful." Kyle was finally seeing her again. It took all this to get him to really look at her again. He was looking at her as Sarah Connor. Not "The Great Sarah Connor" of legend, just Sarah Connor. She smiled up at him. It was nice to have him back. They stopped their march just long enough to kiss. The kind of kiss that tells each other how much they are loved and how much they are valued. Kyle would never be useless to Sarah. She would never be more prefect than in that moment for him. He finally understood. She knew he did.

If any man could describe his feelings in the detail that Kyle's lips and hands could explain his feelings, no woman would ever wonder where she stood. His lips pressed against hers like they could never get enough. His hands twisting in her hair, pulling her ever closer to him. As if he could make them one, he would. This kiss would never have ended if they weren't in such dire need of air. They finally broke away, panting. They turned and continued their trek to the highway, hand in hand. Content with each other's company.


End file.
